Expect the Unexpected

I guess we’ve been neglecting our blog. It’s a little more difficult to update when you’re traveling and don’t have a reliable internet connection. Peter's going to post some pictures from our trip through the northern valleys of the Big Island, but first things first.

Last Thursday night while sitting in a hostel in Kona, Pete and I debated what to do next. We hadn’t heard back from the three farms we’d e-mailed and called, and we weren't even sure we wanted to pursue staying in Hawaii. After talking in circles for a few hours, everyone’s favorite hypothetical question arose: If you could do whatever you wanted to, what would you do next? We both answered: Go to Australia!

To our surprise, tickets to Sydney for that Saturday were half the price of what we expected to find if we flew out of Honolulu—and tickets to Honolulu were only $25 on Friday. After some clicking around online, we had all of the tickets and two almost-instant visas. The next morning we packed our bags for Australia, getting rid of some of the heavier things we’d acquired.

On Saturday morning we left our hotel near the Honolulu airport and made our way to the gate. There was some confusion with my visa, and one of the airline employees made a required phone call to try and figure out what it might be. But nobody could figure out why my visa had indicated for them to make this phone call, so they let me pass through. Phew. Only ten minutes after I’d arrived at the gate, several employees drove up in a van and told me that I wouldn’t be able to board the plane because my passport was apparently invalid. I had some explaining to do.

Five months ago, back in Brooklyn, I’d applied for a passport, having forgotten that I already had one, since the one I had was quite old and had never been used. Weeks went by, then months, and still no passport. Then in July, while packing up my belongings, I came across my old passport, which was still valid. Great, I thought, I’ll just call and cancel my request for a new one. But it wasn’t that simple. Due to the massive influx of requests created by new passport laws requiring everyone traveling to the Caribbean and Canada to be in possession of a passport, the office was inundated by paperwork and phone calls. The automated passport hotline said to call back another time, and then hung up without apologies. I tried, and tried, and tried. And then I gave up.

The day before I decide to travel to Australia, the passport office, in some sick twist of fate, decides to FINALLY issue me a new passport, per my request FIVE months ago. Mind you, it was supposed to take 8 weeks to process the request. The new passport therefore invalidates the one I’m carrying, and while it’s stuck somewhere in the mail system, I’m stuck in Honolulu, awaiting its arrival, and hoping that it’s sometime before our rescheduled flight on Saturday. Everyone cross your fingers.

After I did some crying and pleading, and loudly cursing our government in front of everyone else who actually was flying to Sydney, Peter helped me to see the light. An unplanned week relaxing on Waikiki Beach isn’t exactly awful, we hadn’t made plans in Australia yet, and the airline didn’t charge us to change our flight. It was my right to fly regardless of the passport mishap, but it almost definitely would have gotten me deported at the Sydney airport (at my own expense), and the airline would have incurred a $10,000 fine. Instead we’re taking the week to catch up on reading, sleeping, and beach-bumming. This is the first time that I feel like I’ve been on vacation in years. And while being a stereotypical tourist in an over-hyped tropical paradise isn’t really how I prefer to do things, I can’t exactly complain either. So it goes.